


Peter Gets Kidnapped and is 100% Done With it

by happybeans



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Action, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, I swear this isn't angsty though?!, Irondad, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Sexual Bondage, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, in which the author finds out she loves writing hand-to-hand fights?!, this is a solid fifty percent the action scene oops, warning for mentions of needles and knives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 15:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happybeans/pseuds/happybeans
Summary: Spider-Man gets kidnapped after a boring patrol. If only the kidnappers could do their jobs right. Seriously, how hard can it be?!----------------------------------------------------------------------Featuring Peter's Gen-Z humor, sick fight scenes, and some wholesome Tony-Peter interactions (because of course).





	Peter Gets Kidnapped and is 100% Done With it

**Author's Note:**

> My first two stories and they're both about kidnapping. I swear this isn't all I write!

What they don't tell you about being a superhero is that 99% of the time, it's just super boring.

Okay, maybe that's exaggerating a little. But the point remains: most of Spider-Man-ing is just hopping around and searching for the action, trying to justify missing sleep for a mostly-empty patrol.

Still...a boring patrol is good news, isn't it? Is Peter a bad person for kinda wishing a low-level crime would break up the mundane? ...No, wait...don't answer that, actually.

"Maybe I'll just call it early," Peter admits to himself, kicking a pebble off the rooftop.

Certainly there's no reason for him to stay out for just a little bit longer. This is New York City, after all. A place well-known for its lack of crime.

"Okay, so, like, ten more minutes, then," he says.

He flips a web out onto the building across the street as he steps up to the ledge of this one. Then he _leaps_ , whooping will he soars through the air. There's a few cars on the street, and a few people milling about. Peter throws in a (perfectly necessary) flip and readjusts, throwing another web onto the next building. He grins when he hears a civilian cheer him on.

He's moving mostly at random, the standard for patrols, though he tries to aim more in the direction of home. He's flying past a quiet residential area when something makes him pause. He flips in the air (this time actually necessary), cutting off his momentum so he can land on a rooftop.

It's a little awkward because of the slant in this person's roof, but it's no big deal. Peter only slips, like, once. Then he looks over to the street where a guy's stumbling about. With his advanced hearing, Peter can hear the guy muttering nonsense to himself.

"I think this guy's drunk," Peter whispers to Karen. The guy continues to sway along his path, unaware of the hero perched just a couple hundred feet away like some kind of funky suburban gargoyle.

"It appears that might be the case," Karen agrees. "Would you like me to make a call to the police station?"

Peter hums. "Well," he considers, "he's not causing any trouble for anybody. Maybe we can just follow him? Make sure he gets home safe?"

"If that's what you think would be best, Peter."

Heck yeah, it's best!

He shoots a web at the chimney of the next house over then rethinks, choosing instead to jump to the ground.

"Good choice," Karen speaks.

Apparently, somebody who looks a lot like Spider-Man has been messing up civilians' rooftops from jumping too hard; Tony talked Peter's ear off about it after getting a few calls from the city. Obviously it's an accident! And Peter feels bad about it, but oh well. He'll just avoid house roofs when he can. Problem solved.

The bright side to being 'grounded' is that he gets to be a little overboard on small jobs like this.

"Karen, play the Pink Panther theme song."

Karen does as he requests, laughing when Peter hums along, darting behind a car.

Drunk Dude is a couple hundred feet ahead, and Peter begins following, crouched between cars parked on the street. There's a space between one car and the next, so Peter makes a show of looking both ways before rolling across it. He pretends the ground didn't hurt his spine doing that.

"You are very funny, Peter," Karen remarks.

Peter grins. "I think you're pretty great, too, Karen."

"Thank you, Peter."

Drunk Dude's turning a corner now, so Peter sprints to catch back up with him.

A couple of cars pass by, but they either don't notice or just straight-up ignore the drunken man and his spider-stalker. Just another Tuesday, or whatever. The guy turns the next corner and starts stumbling up the street, heading back towards the direction they came from.

Peter follows along, playing the same game of stop-and-go as the last street.

He sighs after a few houses go by. "Karen, cut the music," he says. Ugh.

This is what they don't tell you about being a superhero.

Look, he knows the guy's drunk, but can't he move a little faster? It's way awkward having to slow down so much to follow along. It's like those heinous missions in video games where you have to follow an NPC somewhere and it always seems to take forever. Even with the added fun of ducking behind cars, Peter's brain basically melts in the time it takes them to get to the end of the street.

Drunk Dude turns the corner and Peter sprints to catch up. You know the routine.

They're back on a commercial street, so Peter scales the nearest building. It feels less creepy stalking the guy from here. Yeah, it's still kinda creepy, but...less so. Which totally makes it okay!

Peter follows along, hopping across rooftops and occasionally slinging across a street when necessary. The guy looks up every now and then, almost as though he can hear him, but Peter's sticking a few rooftops back, so he knows Drunk Dude's just doing his thang.

They go about this routine for a few more blocks until suddenly: he turns around!

"What the heck?! Dude!" Peter whisper-shouts. Is this guy even going anywhere?

He's about to just give up on the guy—he'll probably make it home okay, right?—when Drunk Dude falls to the ground, sitting on the curb between two storefronts with his head in his hands.

Hmm.

Peter considers the scene for a moment. Then he sighs. May as well see this through.

He jumps to the ground about a hundred feet from Dude, landing loudly on his feet. But despite the (pretty cool—he struck a pose and everything!) entrance, Drunk Dude doesn't even look up.

Peter huffs then draws himself out of the crouch.

"Hey, dude," he calls out as he walks over. "You doing okay over there?"

The guy looks over, face unreadable, then sighs, returning his head to his hands.

Peter's a few feet away by now, so he just stops and stares down at Drunk Dude for a moment.

"Just leave me," the guy slurs. He looks up, eyes red. "Leave me like they all do!"

"Oh, jeez," Peter says under his breath. "Sir, you don't sound alright... Do you wanna talk abou—"

The sentence isn't even fully out of his mouth before the guy's proclaiming his woes.

"Oh, it's horrible, Spider-Man! My girlfriend, she—she—"

Peter sits down on the curb beside Drunk Dude, reaching out to pat his shoulder.

"That sounds pretty rough," Peter says, but the guy keeps going.

"Apparently I'm not enough anymore. Not for Ashley...Ashleeey! Why?!"

Peter's cringing beneath the mask. He feels for the guy, he really does, but...yikes.

Thankfully, the sole car that passes by doesn't give them a second glance.

Drunk Dude's cranking up the volume by the minute, rapidly approaching Drunken and Disorderly status, but he pulls Peter suddenly into a hug, proceeding to cry further in his ear.

Peter stiffens out of reflex but lets it happen. "There, there," he says, patting Drunk Dude's back awkwardly. Gosh, Peter can hardly think with how loud this guy's being. "I'm sure you'll find somebody else who—"

ZAP!

Peter shoves Drunk Dude off, spidey-senses invading. He grabs the wrist of the guy behind him, twisting it while pulling him forward. The offender falls to the ground with a cry of pain while Peter uses the momentum to spin upward, landing on his feet in time to slug the guy to his right.

Side-hook to the temple, jab to the throat. This guy goes down unable to cry out.

Peter ducks beneath the knife the first guy's pulled out. He can hear the wind whistle around it as it swipes over his head. As Knife Guy's hand changes course, Peter grips his swinging wrist with both hands. He twirls under the guy's arm and twists, forcing the knife to clatter to the ground. Peter grabs the guy's head without preamble, shoving it down as Peter's knee comes up. There's a crunch of what must be the man's nose breaking, but Peter doesn't have time to dwell on it.

He stumbles forward in an attempt to avoid the blow that comes from his right. It still clips him, but it's not nearly enough to knock him out. He spins around to face Punch Guy and ducks the second swing that comes his way. Before the guy can throw another, Peter pivots on his left foot while snapping the right out, smacking the nerve of the guy's thigh with the top of his foot.

Peter lands forward as Punch Guy's leg crumples beneath him. Peter can hear Knife Guy getting back up—wow, he really doesn't know when to quit, huh?—so he spins around, jumps out of the way of Punch Guy's grabby hand from the ground, and deflects Knife Guy's first fist. This is when things get fun.

Because being a kinda-sorta Avenger means that Peter's been getting some good hand-to-hand combat training, if you couldn't tell. So when Knife Guy throws a second punch with his left hand, Peter doesn't block it like he would have before; instead, he catches it with his left hand and sets the right over Knife Guy's elbow. Then three things happen in one swift motion:

Peter takes a step forward with his right foot, moving just to the side of Knife Guy. As he does this, he bends Knife Guy's arm over his own shoulder, elbow up in the air, and before Knife Guy can even react to any of this, Peter's swinging his left foot like a pendulum, knocking the back of Knife Guy's leg out.

Within a second, Knife Guy's laying flat on his back, blinking up in shock. Peter webs the guy's wrists to the ground before he can even think about getting up. Then Peter sticks one hand out, shooting a web on blind instinct. When he looks over, he pauses.

And laughs.

Punch Guy's stumbling back, one hand ripping at the webbing on his face. Of course, this only gets his hand glued on top of it.

"Hey, man, you might not wanna touch that," Spider-Man says. "It tends to be a little...sticky."

Web-Face—wow, that's a much better nickname than Punch Guy—glares between his fingers. Which, of course, only makes Peter grin even wider.

"Alright, this was fun and all," Peter says, stepping closer, "but it's time to take your L, dude."

Snarling, Web-Face's glare doesn't ebb. Still, he raises his free hand in surrender.

"See? No big deal," Peter says while Web-Face drags his feet over to where his buddy is still struggling fruitlessly against his bonds. Web-Face drops to the ground with a grumble, sitting with his legs out in front of him.

Peter makes quick work of him, grabbing Web-Face's free arm and gluing it to his body with a couple quick web-shots. He steps back when the perp seems properly tied up then gestures to Web-Face's...webbed face.

"Don't worry about that, by the way," Peter says. "It'll go away in a couple hours, tops."

He turns around then and his eyes widen when he sees Drunk Dude curled up against the brick wall to his right. Peter would've thought the guy would be out of here by now.

"Oh, man," Peter says, approaching Drunk Dude. "You doing okay?"

Drunk Dude blinks up at him with wide eyes but nods after a moment. His heartbeat is going like crazy, and Peter can only hope the guy isn't having a heart attack or some crap. Peter can hear the two guys behind him whispering to each other, but nothing of importance. He offers Drunk Dude a hand, which he accepts after a hesitant moment.

Peter's pulled him halfway up when he suddenly lets go, stepping to the right to dodge the—needle?!—held in Drunk Dude's hand.

"Woah! What?!"

He jumps back again when Drunk Dude lunges forward, swiping the syringe through the air.

"Dude! Can't we talk this out?" Peter's still gathering his bearings when he trips over Web-Face and Knife Guy behind him. He lands on his butt and starts scrambling backwards, barely avoiding the kicks Web-Face is sending at him.

Meanwhile, he can see Not-So Drunk Dude sawing the webbing off of one of Knife Guy's wrists. Holy crap. What is even happening?

With a grunt, Knife Guy rips his first wrist out of the webbing, immediately reaching into his pocket. Based on his name, Peter can probably guess what Knife Guy's grabbing.

Once he's finally found some semblance of balance, Peter jackrabbits onto the wall beside him, crawling a few feet up.

"Holy shit," he breathes, heart racing. He doesn't have time to catch his breath, because now Peter's pouncing across the alley to the adjacent building, latching onto the brickwork by his hands and feet. He hears metal clatter against the building he was just against before his spidey-sense goes off once more and he's forced to leap again.

The chaos only grows from there.

The three men are yelling now, shouting over one another in panic:

"Get him already, would'dja?!"

"Where the hell is Jason?!"

"Damned, slippery—"

Not-So Drunk Dude isn't even saying anything, just straight-up screaming while he runs back and forth across the alley, chasing Spider-Man from wall to wall, needle raised above his head like an 80s-movie serial killer.

Peter finally gains the traction to pause and shoot a web at Not-So Drunk Dude's hand, snatching the needle away. He shouts while Peter smashes it against the wall, glass and liquid glittering as they fall to the ground.

One more quick web shoots out, snatching Web-Face by the ankle as he tries to escape down the opposite end of the alley. His right hand is still glued to his face and the left glued to his side, so, unable to break his fall, he lands on his shoulder with a loud 'oof!'

Peter's mouth widens in a teeth-showing wince. He jumps down to the ground with both hands raised.

"Sorry, dude," he says. "Though, this just goes to show that crime doesn't—hey!"

He ducks down into a low crouch, narrowly avoiding the knife that goes sailing above him. He turns to glare at Knife Guy, stepping to the side while whipping his arm out to knock away the next.

"Will you cut that out?" Peter says. Then, when Knife Guy reaches for what Peter can only assume is the fabled knife pocket, Peter sprays the entire front of Knife Guy's pants with webbing.

He knows this vigilante stuff is supposed to be serious work, but come on. Peter lets out a snorting laugh when Knife Guy's mouth spasms in disbelief.

"Ha! Good luck getting another..."

Not-So Drunk Dude must thinks he's the next Black Widow or something when he 'sneaks' up behind Spider-Man, but his punch is so slow comparatively, that Peter literally just shifts his weight onto the other foot and Not-So Drunk Dude's hand goes flying past him to the left.

Not one to miss a golden opportunity, Peter grabs the guy's wrist with one hand, taking a step to the right while yanking him forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter can see Knife Guy on the ground, hands skimming for some of his used projectiles, and Web-Face doing some kind of one-armed army crawl towards the opposite direction.

Not-So Drunk Dude ends up on his knees and one hand, eyes wide.

"That's right!" Peter mocks. "Now I have your hand. How's it feel, huh?"

He shoots another web out, latching onto Web-Face's ankle once again and yanking him back closer. Honestly, he doesn't mean to be so rough with him, but this is all getting a bit...overwhelming. A projectile goes whizzing past his head, as if to punctuate his point.

In one fluid move, he throws Not-So Drunk Dude to the side and webs his legs to the ground. Then Peter’s bouncing forward, and to the left: two separate dodges, and two separate knives flying past from his four-o’clock. Only, the thing is, his spider-sense is going off for the knives, but it doesn’t stop buzzing as he moves, and then in a jarring plot twist, everything goes still in the alley around him.

He raises his head to look straight forward as one hand reaches up to where he feels a pricking in his neck. A man is standing at the end of the alley, teeth showing in a sabre-cat grin. He’s standing, legs spread honestly too far apart, and Peter would snort a laugh except—

Except his hands connect with a small object lodged into the side of his neck, and when Peter yanks it out with a wince, he looks down at it, and…

Oh, dear lord. Is this for real?

What even is his life?

“Dude, what? Is this the jungle or something?” Peter quips, but there’s a waver in his voice, and the hand holding what undoubtedly is a _blow dart_ is shaking.

A blow dart! Peter thought that was just a thing in movies.

But apparently not. Because as he draws a stuttering breath in, Peter can feel icy liquid traveling through the veins in his neck, and then his hearing is zooming in and out, if that’s even something that hearing can do, and every blink of his eyes makes the scene around him shift and blur like air above a grill.

Somebody moves in the corner of his eye, and Peter takes a stumbling step back. He manages to lower himself to his knees, saying, “Karen, call Mr…”

And his voice fades off while he starts to collapse to the side, but he doesn’t worry. Karen already knows what to do.

He fights to keep his eyes blinking, but as everything around him seems to fade away, he feels himself falling deeper…

And deeper…

Until he loses awareness entirely.

And he drifts away.

 

\---------------------------

 

Until what must be just minutes later.

Because as anti-climactic as it is, Peter doesn’t wake up to a slap across the face or maybe electrocution or something, but rather to a dull bump from beneath him.

See, what happens is he wakes up with his eyes closed, so he just pretends to stay asleep until he comes to the conclusion that he most certainly is lying on his side across the soft backseat of a car, and that there most certainly are four people in said car with him. There’s two in the front and two behind him, which makes Peter wonder:

Is this one of those cool cars with three rows of seats? Because he’s literally always wanted to sit in the way back of one of those, and he knows he’s being kidnapped right now, but he’s also kinda disappointed that this isn’t the day to fulfill that dream?

But okay, okay. Focus time.

So Peter’s pretending to be asleep, which means that he doesn’t have the chance to readjust his neck position—which really sucks because he can tell they’ve just thrown him onto the seat with no care for any future cricks. Seriously, would a simple neck pillow be too much to ask for?

Anyways, Peter sticks his tongue out—blep!—and finds that yes, his mask is still on. Which, weird, because isn’t the unmasking pretty much the first thing villains wanna do?

Karen’s speaking on her lowest volume setting, reassuring him that Mr. Stark is, in fact, on his way, but Peter’s too busy wondering why in the _world_ these guys would kidnap him and not even bother with restraints?!

“Do I mean nothing to you?”

The four men are shouting around him, one guy from the back jumping forward to sit on top of him, but Peter doesn’t even care. These guys really didn’t think to restrain him at all? No rope? Not even a dinky pair of handcuffs?

He’s really hit a new low, huh?

He isn’t even mad when they jab him with another needle. Maybe this time they’ll get it right.

 

\-------------------------

 

The second needle was a good addition, Peter can tell. When he wakes up, the guys are wrapping some metal chains around him and the chair he’s sitting on.

Minus points for unoriginality, but the metal chain-link adds a nice aesthetic touch. Also, he’s glad that he’s at least on the metal-level. If they’d gone for zip-ties, he’d have roasted them a little, to be honest.

Peter can tell that whatever was in that second needle is slowing him down. Probably his metabolism not quite keeping up with how much they’ve injected in him in the last—what, fifteen minutes? He’s not quite at headache-level yet, but it’s probably best to avoid getting hit with many more of those.

It seems the one guy is finished adding restraints, and Peter hears him step back. There’s only two of the four guys in here, and, gauging by their heartbeats, they’re nervous as all heck.

First kidnapping? Peter can sympathize. It’s probably pretty obvious at this point, but this is definitely not Peter’s first kidnapping. It is among the cringiest attempts, though.

Granted, they did get him all the way here, so...Ugh, don’t over-think that. It’s just an off-day, okay? Peter swears, his life is not just like this.

The two guys start walking away in front of him. Once they’ve stopped what seems like about a hundred feet away, Peter cracks an eye open.

The two guys are familiar. One very clearly is Not-So Drunk Guy (who Peter would like a word with, thank you very much), and the other is made distinct by his purple nose and webbed-up crotch. Knife Guy. Peter snorts.

The two look over, but Peter holds still and silent, and they look away after a couple seconds. Noobs. The two walk into a small room cubed out from the rest of the warehouse, hitting the lights on their way in.

Peter wants to scream. He can see in the dark, guys! Y’know, pretty well, anyways. Enough to see the couple of surveillance cameras hooked up around the room. They’re probably watching in the other room, huh?

Peter’s half-tempted to pull a horror movie moment on them. Maybe break out of the restraints lightning-quick then escape into a camera blind-spot. They’d be totally spooked. Maybe he could even go the extra mile and crab-walk towards them. Not to be weird, but Peter may have totally practiced that just for this specific scenario.

But, no. Sigh. Mr. Stark’s already going to be on his case for falling into this one. Plus there are still drugs in his system, and Peter’d rather not get a knife in his side tonight.

So. Guess he’ll wait for Iron Man to get here.

Peter hums to himself. Pink Panther—still stuck in his head. Huh...the floors are a little dusty in here. It gets Peter thinking…

Do villains clean their warehouses? Other than these guys, of course; they clearly don’t. Wait, but is this even their own warehouse? Is this just a random building they found to take him to?  
But wait...they had the time to set up all the cameras and whatever. So it’s probably theirs, right? But wait. That exact marking on that one wall looks vaguely familiar. Has Peter been here before? Is this a community villain warehouse? Or do all warehouses just look the same?

So many questions.

“Yo, Karen. How long ‘til Mr. Stark gets here?”

“Only a couple more minutes, Peter. You’re doing great.”

Uuuugh. What they don’t tell you about being kidnapped is that 99% of the time, it’s just super boring.

What’s Peter even supposed to do? He’s certain Mr. Stark will kill him if he asks Karen to load up a vine comp. or something, but jeez.

Then, suddenly: a gift from God, Herself. Peter watches with rapt attention as a spider slowly lowers itself down from a light fixture, making its way to the floor a few feet in front of him.

Peter has a bit of an odd relationship with spiders. You might assume that he’s all buddy-buddy with them, you know, because of the whole Spider-Man thing. But honestly, being bitten once was enough for him. Kind of a been-there, done-that situation. But this spider?

This spider is his savior.

It probably doesn’t even notice him watching while it goes about its spidery business, crawling across the floor parallel to him.

“Psst. Hey, little dude. C’mere.”

Look, Peter’s alone, okay? If he wants to just make sure, then he dang-well will.

“Hey! If you can hear me, come closer!” Because if he can talk to spiders like how Ant-Man can do this thing, then Peter could probably end all crime. Ever.

Unfortunately, the spider starts crawling in the opposite direction. It can’t understand him. Unless—

“Karen, is it mocking me?”

“Spider-speech is not one of your powers that I am aware of. Would you like me to update—”

“No, no,” Peter cuts her off, “it’s fine. For now.”

“Hey!” One of the kidnappers is walking out of the cube room, but Peter can already hear it in the distance. Too late.

The guy—that dirtbag from earlier, Jason or whatever—flicks the lights on, but his eyes widen. Repulsors.

“Next time, you’re gonna wanna work a little faster,” Peter says, standing. Most of the chains just fall around him, though he does get to snap a few. Wow, that felt so cool. He’s like Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson! Only Jewish, and perhaps slightly less ripped.

Jason looks way spooked, and it’s kinda satisfying? Getting his cummupets or whatever. Peter might be a little salty about earlier.

Dirtbag Jason lifts a metal weapon, which Peter can only assume is the blowdart device, but before he can even think of firing it off, Peter’s webbing it away with a flick of his wrist.

The other guys scramble from the doorway of the boxed-off room then, looking varying levels of shook. At least they thought to grab some weapons of their own...not that crowbars and kitchen knives will do much against Iron Man.

Speaking of which…

Peter jumps onto a far wall just as Iron Man smashes through the ceiling.

Iron Man first looks to the chair then to Peter on the wall. Peter gives a little wave, but Mr. Stark just shakes his head, hand covering his eyes. Well. Eye holes.

The wannabe’s are shaking in their metaphorical boots, but they do make a valiant effort. Web-Face chucks a long kitchen knife at Iron Man and ends up completely missing. Knife Guy and Not-So Drunk Dude attempt to rush him together.

Not-So Drunk Dude, the crazy son of a gun, lets out a battle-cry with a crowbar raised over his head. He goes to strike it down onto Iron Man’s head, but Mr. Stark just stops it with one hand. The metal of the crowbar and the suit connect with an echoing _clang_ that makes Peter and Not-So Drunk Dude flinch.

Meanwhile, Knife Guy’s got what looks like the broken arm of an office chair in his hands. He swings it like a baseball bat at Iron Man’s side, and Peter’s mouth falls open when Mr. Stark just lets it happen.

But then.

But then.

The piece must have been plastic or something?! Because it literally just snaps in half when it connects with the metal armor of Iron Man’s suit.

Peter cackles from where he’s crouching on the wall, though he cuts it off after a second when it just makes him woozy. Drugs, ugh.

Mr. Stark fakes a yawn with his free hand while Not-So Drunk Dude and Knife Guy freeze in shock.

Then a scraping sound emits from the other side of the room, drawing five sets of eyes. Jason’s making a break for it, of course, about to step out the door.

Peter’s getting ready to chase after, but Mr. Stark lifts an arm. Instead of a flash of light, however, a small slot on his forearm opens up and a projectile shoots across the room. Whatever it is, Jason goes down when it hits him.

The other men seem to jolt back to themselves at this. Knife Guy drops the broken plastic in his hands and starts running, joined by Web-Face just moments later. Both of them go down like their friend.

Admirably, Not-So Drunk Dude doesn’t bolt; he yanks at the crowbar for a second then seemingly realizes that it’s Iron Man holding the other end. So he lets go in order to throw a punch at the chestplate of the armor.

Peter hears the grunt of pain Not-So Drunk Dude lets out at the action, as well as what might be a snort of laughter from Mr. Stark. Surprisingly, Not-So Drunk Dude doesn’t give up at that: he actually stomps on Iron Man’s foot as well. Not that it does anything, of course.

One final projectile flies out of Iron Man’s arm, and it makes a small circuit in the air before plinking directly into Not-So Drunk Dude’s butt.

Peter wonders if Mr. Stark planned it that way.

Not-So Drunk Dude collapses to the ground like the rest of his hooligan buddies. They’re all still breathing, so whatever Mr. Stark did to them just knocked them out.

Iron Man’s approaching Peter now, and the faceplate flips up, revealing definite real-life Tony Stark.

“Haha, uh. Thanks for the assist,” Peter says.

“Kid, just get on the ground, wouldja?”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says then jumps down. He wobbles just a little, and Mr. Stark’s arm shoots out to steady him.

“You know, most times when parents get the call their kid’s doing drugs, it’s pot or something,” Mr. Stark says with a side-eye.

Peter chuckles, one hand reaching up to the back of his neck.

“Yeahh, sorry about that.”

Tony sighs, rubbing his forehead a little. “Come ‘ere,” he says. “You feeling okay?”

Tony’s holding the Iron Man hand to Peter’s masked forehead. Which is to say, there’s no way Tony’s able to feel his temperature like this.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Peter appreciates the sentiment, nonetheless. “They were kinda bad kidnappers, haha...I presume you watched the footage?”

“On my way here.”

“Yup…” Peter cracks a crooked grin which Tony must read through the mask. “Any chance you can forget this one?”

Tony chuckles. “Only if you agree to get checked out by Bruce once we get back.”

“Deal!”

They start walking, Tony pulling Peter into his side. They step over the unconscious men on their way out.

“Although, I have to ask,” Tony says, sounding suspiciously thoughtful. “Talking to spiders? Really?”

“Hey, if Scott can do it!”

They laugh. Tony pulls him closer. “Yeah, why not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! Thanks for giving this story a read! If you liked it, hated it, or feel neutral towards it, please feel free to take a second to leave a comment below. I especially want opinions on the fight scene, to be honest. I'd never written an action scene before, but I don't think it was too bad! Was everything clear? Were you able to picture it easily as you read? I'd really appreciate any criticism you as readers can offer. 
> 
> Thanks again for taking the time to give this a read! Have a nice day, folks.


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